


If At First You Don't Succeed

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s03e13 Syzygy, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 16:23:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12062697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: After long anticipation, Mulder and Scully's first time together doesn't go exactly as planned.  As they work a case together, they find this getting in the way of their relationship and must figure out how to navigate this new stage.





	If At First You Don't Succeed

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own The X-Files or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

This wasn’t going according to plan.

At first it had been wonderful.  Just like Mulder had imagined.  They were at Scully’s apartment, working late on a case, getting tired and punchy.  And he made some joke and she tossed one back and they both started to laugh, and then he looked at her and she looked at him and there they were, kissing.  He’d thought about kissing her for more than three years now, and this was as incredible as he’d dreamed.  And then their hands got into the act, and at some point he asked her if she wanted to stop, and she said no, she didn’t want to stop at all, did he, and he said hell no, and she pulled him into her bedroom, and he couldn’t believe that this was really happening, couldn’t believe that he was this lucky.  They pulled at each other’s clothes, and God, she was so beautiful, so sexy, he wanted to tell her but he didn’t have the words for what she was.  So he just touched her, kissed her again, fast now, frenzied.  She said that she was ready, she had condoms in her nightstand, here, take one, put it on, she wanted this now, and he wanted it now too, wanted it so much, it seemed like all he’d ever wanted.   And being inside her felt amazing too, he was worried at first that he wouldn’t last long enough, and now…and now…

Now it was taking too long.  He’d wanted to get Scully off first, and he’d done that, helping her along with his fingers until her body shuddered and she let out a little cry.  But now, even with all the anticipation—with the _years_ of anticipation—he couldn’t quite seem to follow her.  He was still moving inside her, wanting to reach the finish, feeling as though he were very close and yet somehow not getting there.  He didn’t know why this was happening; it didn’t usually happen to him.  Maybe it was the condom?  Maybe he was nervous because this was Scully, after all, this wasn’t just anybody?  Well, he didn’t know _why_ it was happening, but he certainly knew _that_ it was happening; now that he was aware of it, it seemed like the only thing he could think about.  And Scully was thinking about it too, she definitely was.  He could tell from the way she was looking down at him now.  

She didn’t say anything about it.  Not in so many words at least.  What she said was, “Would you…do you want to try it a different way…I can move or…”  Maybe she thought phrasing it like that would make him feel better.  It didn’t make him feel better at all.

“No,” he said.  “No, I just…”  What was he supposed to say to her?  “I’m almost there,” he said, hoping it was true.  She didn’t say anything to that either, just ran her hands along his chest, and it somehow felt different than it had even earlier that evening, when things were going right.  He wasn’t thinking, now, about all the things he’d been thinking about—how incredible Scully looked and felt, about how he couldn’t believe this was finally happening and about what it could be the start of.  He just wanted to finish at this point, stop dragging this out and not embarrass himself with Scully any more than he had already.  It still seemed to take eons—he knew the dwelling on it made it more difficult, but he couldn’t stop himself—but eventually, mercifully, he was able to let go, coming with a jerk of his hips and a quiet grunt.

He still didn’t know what to say to her.  He certainly didn’t want to talk about it.  He doubted she did either.  He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d wanted to pretend that the whole night never happened; there was a part of him that wanted to do that too, now, as wonderful as the beginning had been.  Maybe she’d want to go back to what they’d had before.  He certainly hadn’t given her a great experience.

“Mulder,” Scully said quietly.  He’d rolled aside now and wasn’t looking at her.

“Yeah?” he said.

“I…we should…”  Her voice trailed off.  Obviously she didn’t know what to say either.  Obviously she was upset. 

He slid off the condom and tied it off.  “I’ll go throw this out,” he said.

 “Yeah,” she said.  “Yeah, I should…I should get cleaned up too.”  She disappeared into the bathroom, and Mulder threw the condom in the trash can, then started putting his clothes back on.  He was retrieving his shirt from the living room when Scully reappeared.  She’d put on a robe.  “Oh,” she said.  “Oh…are you…”

“I should get going,” he said.  “Yeah, it’s…it’s late.”

She nodded.  “Okay,” she said.  “So…I’ll see you soon.”  She looked so small, standing there in her robe with her feet bare, and Mulder thought about pulling her close, about holding her and kissing her and asking her to give him another chance, promising that he’d make the next time better.  But he didn’t want to drag this ordeal out.  Not for either of them.

He nodded back.  “Yeah,” he said, “soon.  Good night, Scully.”  Then he headed out her apartment door.

 

By the time she was on her way to work on Monday morning, Dana Scully had thought the whole thing over so much that she no longer knew what to believe.  The facts themselves were pretty simple.  She and Mulder had slept together on Friday night.  Finally, she thought.  She’d been fantasizing about it for a long time; she was pretty sure he had too.  And it had all gone very well at first—she had felt so good when he was touching her, he was amazing with his hands and she’d really thought that he was enjoying it too—and then, well, he hadn’t come.  At least not for a while.  She probably wouldn’t have thought much of it, except for the way he’d acted.  She’d offered to try it a different way, something that was better for him, but he’d rebuffed that, and then after it was over he wouldn’t look at her, and then he’d more or less run away.  That part…that part had hurt.

Maybe it had something to do with her.  Maybe he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as she had, as much as she’d thought he was doing at first, and that was why it took him so long to finish, and that was why he hadn’t wanted to talk to her.  Maybe, after all the waiting and the wanting, she just didn’t do it for him. 

She hated thinking it.  She could tell herself that it wasn’t because of her and that these things just happened sometimes: she was a doctor, and she knew that was true.  But there wasn’t any medical explanation for not looking at her.  Or for not calling her all weekend when he usually called her at least once a day.  Of course, she hadn’t called him either.  She’d wanted to.  She’d been on the point of dialing more than once.  She’d lost her nerve, though; even if it didn’t have anything to do with her, she didn’t know how to bring the whole evening up, and if it did have something to do with her, she really didn’t want to hear it.  When it came to this, she thought, she was a coward.

She couldn’t be a coward forever, though.  She’d be seeing Mulder in ten minutes now, in their office, and they would at least have to talk about work.  Scully didn’t want that to be all they talked about, though; she wanted to figure this thing out.  She wanted to give being together another shot, but she would settle for salvaging their professional relationship and their friendship, if she had to—she couldn’t lose that.

Oh, God, what if she had?

No, she couldn’t think like that.  They’d make it through this.  No matter what happened, they’d always worked things out together before.

He could have called her, though.

Mulder was already there when Scully came into the office, and she tried to smile as she said good morning.  “Hey, Scully,” he replied.  He still wasn’t really looking at her—more at a piece of paper he was holding.  “We’ve got a case.”

“Oh,” she said.  “Where?”

“New Hampshire,” he said.  “A town called Comity.  A teenage boy was killed—there’s a possible satanic cult.  The detective sent me some information.”

She took the paper and scanned it.  “This doesn’t seem like much,” she said.  “You know that the majority of reports of satanic cults—”

“It’s worth checking out, though,” he said.  “Come on, I’ve already figured out our flight.  We should start getting ready.  Pack and everything.”

So he thought that he got to decide everything unilaterally, did he?  If he wanted to head off somewhere, he was just going to head off, was that it?  Scully was about to say something, but she took a breath and forced herself to calm down.  Her irritation had nothing to do with the case.  And there wasn’t time right now to talk about anything else. 

“Sure,” she said.  “Fine.”

They didn’t talk much when they met again later that day at the airport, nor on the plane.  Their only exchange in the rental car was about what direction to turn.  As cases went, Scully thought, this one wasn’t off to a good start.

 

So Scully was upset with him.  That was clear.  It wasn’t the fact that she was shooting him and Detective White down every time they brought up the satanic ritual theory—he wouldn’t have expected anything else—it was the way she was doing it.  The shortness and irritation in her voice, the more or less downright rudeness.  He knew why she was upset, of course.  All weekend, while he was trying to decide whether calling her would make things better or worse, he’d been hoping that he hadn’t ruined all possibility of a romantic future between them by making such a fool of himself, but now he guessed he had.  That was…that was pretty awful; there wasn’t any point in pretending it didn’t make him feel like shit.  Even if he had, though, he didn’t see why she had to bring it into their work.  He wouldn’t have expected it of her, honestly.  And it was going to make things a lot more difficult.

Especially if she kept being so antagonistic to perfectly uninvolved third parties, like Detective White.  It was up to him to sort that one out.  So he went to her house to apologize, hoping she could also help him get to the bottom of whatever was going on with the burn mark.  He couldn’t keep some of his own thoughts from seeping into the conversation, though.  He told her that Scully wasn’t usually like this, that she was usually rigid in a wonderful way, because that was true, and he missed it.  If he’d screwed up everything, even their partnership, even their friendship, he’d never forgive himself.  That seemed like something he would do, though: ruin almost four years in one night.  Maybe he should apologize.  Then again, he hadn’t been able to help it; he hadn’t wanted it to happen any more than she had.  Besides, she clearly wasn’t interested in having a civil conversation.  Would it be so difficult to meet him halfway?

Now she seemed to want to misinterpret him.   When they were called to the high school to investigate the second death, she accused him of ditching her.  He’d done it in the past—he fully admitted that—but that wasn’t what he’d done now.  He’d just wanted to find out more about something that she didn’t think was worth bothering with.  He would have explained, but she cut him off with a “Fine, whatever,” and they were summoned to another site before he could try again.

 

She couldn’t believe him.  She couldn’t believe he had said that.

She wouldn’t have thought it of him.  She knew things were uneasy between them.  She knew he was still avoiding her.  When she’d gone to his motel room last night, hoping to talk to him, determined to swallow her pride and try to clear the air, he hadn’t been there.  And when she’d asked him about it earlier today, he’d said that he’d gone to follow up a lead with Detective White.  So he was leaving her out of the case now, too, which was just great.  And yet, with all of that, she still wouldn’t have thought that he would say something like that to her.  When she was putting on her surgical gloves, getting ready to look at the evidence: “I know how much you like snapping on the latex.”

She knew what he meant.  She knew that he wasn’t talking about surgical gloves.  So now it was her fault, was it?  What was she supposed to do, apologize for caring about her sexual health?  Like hell.  She’d just about had it with him at this point.  At first she’d been more worried and confused than anything, but now…now she was just mad.

And his behavior at the police station didn’t make her any less mad.  Who did he think he was, anyway?  Talking about perfume like that…Well, she should have guessed.  He wanted to stay in town because of Detective White, and she supposed he had the right to do that now, because nothing more was going to be happening between the two of them, that was clear, since he obviously found sex with her so un-erotic, and he had the nerve to blame it on the condom, and then after all it wasn’t as if they were exactly a couple, since they’d never talked about what that night meant, of course, and if he was more attracted to Detective White now she didn’t…

Oh, who was she kidding?  Yes, she was mad now, but she wasn’t just mad.  She was confused and upset and full of wishes that things could be different.

 

Scully thought he was just sticking around because he wanted Detective White.  Mulder didn’t know how she could think that, but he also didn’t know, at this point, how to make her think any differently: not when she was determined to believe it.  He didn’t usually drink, but right now it seemed like the thing to do.

 

Scully hated being jealous, but she’d never been very good at stopping herself.  At this point, it seemed like all she could think about was Mulder and Detective White and the way he’d tried to play innocent when she confronted him.  She hadn’t smoked in a long time, but she bought a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and sat, fuming, in her room.

 

He only wanted to get rid of Detective White, but then Scully had to walk in, because that was the way things were going these days.  Well, forget it.  He didn’t care about fixing things anymore; there wasn’t any point in it, if she was going to act this way.  Especially if she was going to start an argument about driving, of all things.  He told her he didn’t know if her feet could reach the pedals.  If she was going to be mad at him anyway, there might as well be a good reason.  Macho-man.  He’d never heard anything so ridiculous.

 

Mulder could at least wait to start things with Detective White until she was back in Washington, for God’s sake.  She knew she was picking a fight about the driving, but she didn’t care.  That was the root of all these problems anyway, the way he was being such a guy, wanting to have some kind of amazingly unrealistic sex and never talk about how they were feeling and do all the driving, all the time.  And she did not have little feet!

 

So it was all settled then.  It was the planetary alignment behind it all: the two girls and the murders in Comity.  With the end of the alignment had come the end of the problems, and now they were heading home, him and Scully.

They’d been working together again, there at the end in the police station, but they still didn’t talk much as they drove away.  Not until she ran a stop sign, at any rate.  He couldn’t help pointing it out, to which she responded with “Shut up, Mulder.”

That was unnecessary.  “Sure,” he said.  “Fine.  Whatever.”

Scully looked over at him, and at first her expression was unmistakably a glare.  But then, after a moment, she started to laugh, and after another, Mulder started to laugh with her.  It was all so absurd: the whole case and the way they’d acted during it.  Even with what had happened the other night, they’d had no reason to take it out on each other this way.  Mulder didn’t exactly feel better about the whole thing—it was still a pretty humiliating memory—but, at least in this moment, he felt like they had a good shot at getting things back at least to the way they’d been before.  It felt good to laugh with Scully this way again. 

When their laughter had died down, though, he wasn’t sure what to do next.  At this point, he was pretty sure that they should talk about what had happened between them.  They weren’t very good at that kind of thing, but he still had a suspicion that it had to be done.  They hadn’t really talked before they’d slept together, after all, and they hadn’t talked at all afterwards, and look where it had gotten them.  If Scully didn’t want to have sex with him ever again, he’d respect that, of course, but they should at least discuss it first.  Although that meant that she would be telling him she didn’t want to have sex with him ever again to his face.  Which didn’t sound like an appealing prospect.

He couldn’t be blamed, he thought, for not bringing it up right then.  He settled for smiling at her tentatively, and she smiled back, and they were quiet as they made the rest of the drive to the airport, went through security, and flew home.  Mulder took out a book on the plane, but he mostly turned the pages without reading them; when he glanced over at Scully, he could tell that she was doing the same.

“I’m going to get a cab,” Scully said, once they’d gotten off the plane.  “I…well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He was about to agree, to turn and head out himself, but what came out of his mouth was,  “I could give you a ride.  I left my car here.”

“It’s out of your way,” Scully said.  But she said it more like she was stating a fact, or like she didn’t want to put him to the trouble, than like she was trying to avoid the suggestion.

“Hey, I don’t mind,” he said.  “Happy to do it.” 

She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then she nodded and said, “Okay.”  It was still a little dicey.  They normally didn’t make anything out of moments like these—he’d give her a ride if she needed one, or she’d give him one, and that was just the way it was.  He guessed he couldn’t expect it to be exactly like that again straight off.  But she’d agreed.  That was something.

They were quiet again, though, in the car.  They did talk some, but it all decidedly fell into the small talk category—do you want to listen to the radio and it’s been a long day and it got really cold out again.  That wasn’t something they normally did either; there wasn’t any need for it, between them.  As they approached Scully’s apartment, Mulder tried to come to a decision.  Was this the right time to try to talk to her—or even to raise the idea that he thought they should talk—or should he let it lie?

Scully spoke first, though.  “Thanks for the ride,” she said.  “I just wanted to say…we’re going to have to write up a report on this case, you know.”

“Right,” he said.  “Of course.”

“And we weren’t at our most professional,” Scully said.  “So I thought we should talk about what we want to put in the report.”

“We don’t have to put any of that in,” he said.  “Do we?”

“No,” she said.  “I didn’t mean that.  I just thought…”  Her voice trailed off.  Whatever she thought, it looked like she wasn’t about to tell him.

“We could put something more general,” Mulder said.  “About how the alignment affected everyone…”

“It wasn’t just the alignment, Mulder,” Scully said.  “Not with us.  You know it wasn’t.”  She was looking right at him now, and he knew he had to say something.

He swallowed.  “Yeah,” he said.  “I know.  Look, I…I’m sorry, Scully.  I’m sorry I made it so lousy for you the other night.  I know it wasn’t what—”

“Wait,” she said.  “You think…Mulder, I wasn’t upset about _that_.” 

She wasn’t?  “Why not?” he blurted out, which definitely had to be the most idiotic possible response to what she’d said.

She shrugged.  “I just wasn’t,” she said.  “And I wouldn’t call it lousy.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was the first time, you can’t necessarily expect…But that’s not the point.  I _was_ upset that you ignored me afterwards.  About the way you left and didn’t call.”

Damnit.  He’d obviously totally misjudged this…she had every right to be upset about that…”I was embarrassed,” he said in a voice that sounded small to his own ears.  “I felt like shit.”

“Well, fine,” Scully said.  “But you made me feel like shit too.  I thought you…you didn’t like me or something…”

“Oh, God no,” he said quickly.  “You were amazing, Scully.  It didn’t have anything to do with you.  I just…well, I thought you might not want to hear from me.  You didn’t call me either,” he added, aware that was a feeble excuse.

“Yeah, I know,” Scully said.  “I wanted to, but…you practically ran out on me, and I thought…”

Yes, he’d definitely misread the whole thing.  He’d thought that he was doing the best thing for both of them by getting out of there as soon as possible; instead, he’d made her feel as terrible about the whole thing as he did.  He’d thought that he’d ruined things during the sex; instead, it had been the way he’d acted to her afterwards.  He could only hope that he hadn’t ruined them completely.  He reached across the console and took her hand.  “Then I’m sorry about that too,” he said.  “I thought you wouldn’t want me to stick around, but honestly that was probably my own embarrassment talking, and…I never wanted to make you feel bad.” 

She left her hand in his, which was encouraging, but she clearly wasn’t about to let the conversation stop there.  “You did, though,” she said.  “During the case.  Mulder, I know we never talked about what it meant between us, but I…it was hard for me to see you with someone else.”

“Scully, I wasn’t.  It wasn’t like that,” he said.  He tried not to sound impatient, because the last scene she’d witnessed between him and Detective White did lend credence to the idea, but on the other hand she’d clearly had a bee in her bonnet about this from the start.  “I went to work the case with Detective White because you acted like you weren’t interested.  And that last night—all sorts of weird things were happening to everyone.  She was coming on to me, but I wasn’t interested in her.  You just picked the worst moment to walk in, that’s all.  It was the planetary alignment.”

“Oh, sure, that old excuse,” Scully said.  But he thought he could see the hint of a smile on her face.

“I would have explained,” he said.  “But you weren’t exactly interested in talking to me.”

Scully nodded.  “I know,” she said.  “I was upset with you, but I shouldn’t have brought it into the case.  I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.  “Like you said, you weren’t the only one.”

“I know,” Scully said.  “But it definitely didn’t make things any easier.  I don’t…I don’t like fighting with you, Mulder.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he said.  “I don’t like fighting with you either.”

“And if I’d been more willing to talk with you, maybe we’d have sorted this out sooner…So I’m sorry if I jumped to conclusions about what you were thinking.  And, you know, for starting that fight about driving.  It wasn’t really about that.”

“I got that,” he said.  “It was…it wasn’t fun.  But it’s okay.”

She was quiet for a moment.  “Why’d you make that crack at me?” she asked.  “About the latex?”

He honestly didn’t know, at this point.  It had just slipped out in the moment.  He’d told her, just now, that he had never wanted to make her feel bad, and he’d meant that, but still: maybe then he’d wanted to unload how shitty he was feeling about that night onto her.  “Well, I shouldn’t have said it,” he began.

“Yeah.”

“I guess…I don’t know,” he said.  “Maybe I was trying to make an excuse.  You know, make it seem like the whole thing wasn’t my fault.  Like there was some outside factor and I couldn’t help it.  And I said it in a really nasty way.  And I’m sorry about that.  It definitely wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t anybody’s fault,” Scully said.  “It happens, Mulder.  And if I did anything, that night, to make you think that I was upset with you, I’m sorry about that too.   I didn’t know what you’d want me to say, but…”  Her cheeks were a little pink.  “It was good for me, Mulder.”

Just that simple little phrase, and he was suddenly very aroused.  “Yeah?” he said.  “Well, even if I acted like an idiot afterwards, it was good for me too.”

“Yeah?” she said, and then they were leaning across the console towards each other, and her hand was stroking through his hair and down the back of his neck, and he reached out, ran his fingers through her hair too.  Their lips met, and they were both laughing into the kiss, somehow, giggling and making out in the car like teenagers.  He unbuckled his seatbelt so he could move towards her.  He still couldn’t get close enough, though, not with the gearshift in the way.  “You want to come inside?” Scully asked, and yes, that was a much much better idea.

 

It was all right.  It was all right: she and Mulder had made up, they’d talked things through and explained everything, and he hadn’t wanted someone else, and he didn’t think she was terrible in bed, he thought she was amazing in bed, actually, and now he was kissing her very very thoroughly against the door of her apartment.  He moaned into her mouth when she scratched at his back.  Oh yeah.  She moaned too, because hearing him turned her on, and she wanted him to know that it turned her on, that _he_ turned her on, that she wanted them to try this again and not mess it up this time.  “Bedroom,” she said, and he nodded and took her hand as she led the way.

Once on the bed, she reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly, pressing her lips to his bare chest.  “I’ve wanted you so long,” she said.  She hadn’t told him last time.  But she wanted to tell him now.

“Me too, Scully,” he said.  “I’ve thought about you like this for years, Scully…you’re perfect and I want to make this perfect for you…”  He was pulling at her sweater now, and she shifted to help him with it.

“Doesn’t have to be perfect,” she said.  “Just has to be us…mmm, that’s good.”  He’d been kissing down her neck, but he stopped now and grinned at her.

“All right,” he said.  “It doesn’t have to be perfect.  But let me give it a shot anyway, okay?”  He went back to her neck then, and when she sighed in pleasure he murmured, “You like that?” against her skin.

“Yeah,” she said.  “A lot.”  And he kept up the kissing while he unfastened her bra, while his hands found her breasts, caressing and teasing and oh, she liked that a lot too. 

It had felt good the first time, but this time it felt better.  It wasn’t that they were doing anything particularly differently.  Not physically, anyway.  But they were less frantic now: it was still a wonderful thing to be with him like this, still almost miraculous, but it wasn’t quite so new.  And then they both knew now that this could go wrong, that they could hurt each other without meaning to, and they weren’t going to let that happen again.  Scully was all the more determined to make it go right this time, and she could tell that Mulder was too; it was in the way he looked at her and the way he talked to her, those soft words that made her shiver.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.  He was kissing her thigh now, just light little kisses but she couldn’t stop squirming.

“You too,” she said, reaching down, stroking her fingers through his hair.  He flushed at that.  She liked it.

His kisses moved higher.  “Do you want me to…?”

“I really, really do,” she said, and then she started giggling, not exactly knowing why.  And it could have been an awkward moment, one of those uncomfortable times when you didn’t know what to do, when you wondered what the other person was thinking of you, but if there was any of that now, it passed in an instant.  He took one of her hands and squeezed it, and she stroked his hair again with her other hand and said through her giggles, “Come on, Mulder, please.”  Then his mouth was on her and she definitely wasn’t overthinking anything.  She was barely even thinking, period.  It felt too good for that.  She could hear herself gasping, moaning, urging him on, closer, closer, just a little bit more and there, oh God, there, she was coming and if anything unpleasant had happened between them this made up for it and then some.

Mulder was smiling at her again now, and she smiled back.  “You’re really good at that,” she said.  The words seemed inadequate, but tonight she wanted him to know how she felt. 

“And you’re…”  He shook his head and moved up the bed.  “No words,” he said against her mouth.  “But all good things.”  A kiss.  She knew she was blushing.

“Tell me…”  She paused, trying to choose her words carefully.  She didn’t want it to seem like she was bringing the other night up again.  She wanted to make this part easy, comfortable.  No pressure.  “Tell me how you want me,” she said finally.  She worked his boxers down and stroked his cock, sliding her thumb lightly over the tip. 

“Can—God, Scully—can I be on top?”  His breathing was harsh, unsteady.

“Yeah,” she said.  “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“You have a condom?” he asked.  He reached out to touch her cheek then, and she knew he was apologizing again for what he’d said, even though it wasn’t in so many words, even though she’d put it behind her now.

She nodded and touched his cheek too, hoping he’d understand her just as well: _I forgive you.  We’ll get things right this time_.  “Yeah.  Let me get it.”  She reached over and opened her nightstand drawer, got a condom out of the box, and handed it to him.  Then she leaned in and started kissing his ear, just because she felt like it, until he told her she was being very distracting.  “All right,” she said.  “I’ll wait, then.”  She sat back, smiling demurely, until he had the condom on and then promptly started kissing his ear again.  This time she was stopped by him groaning and rolling her onto her back, and she sighed at that and reached out to pull him closer to her.  “I want you,” she said.  “I want you so much, Mulder.”

“I want you too, Scully,” he said.  “Want to make this so good for you.”  He looked a little nervous now, when it came to the point, and she raised her head to kiss him.

“It will be,” she said.  “I can tell you that now.  Now come on, I waited years for this and now you’re going to make me wait again?”  She smiled at him as she said it, and he smiled back then, even let out a faint laugh, and then he moved inside her. 

And it was so good.  She had wanted to be reassuring, but she wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t stroke a guy’s ego like that, no matter who it was.  But the fact was that here, even if she’d wanted to, she wouldn’t have needed to stretch the truth even the tiniest bit, because it really did feel wonderful.  It was Mulder, that was the main thing, his body right against hers, as close as they could be, they’d always been as close as they could be and now they still were, only in a different way.  She held him to her, pressed her cheek to his.  Kissed him once, twice.  Heard herself make a little squeaking noise as he rubbed her clit.  “That’s good,” she murmured.  “That’s so good.”

“Scully…you feel amazing…”

“Yeah,” she breathed.  “That’s it, Mulder…I’m so close…let me see you too…”  And after everything, it was easy now.  She saw the pleasure on his face and felt him jerk in her arms, and that pushed her over the edge too.  Oh yes.  Yes.  It was easy, it was right, it was like she’d imagined.  Maybe better.

They lay together afterwards, her foot touching his, his fingers laced through hers.  “Enjoy yourself?” she asked. 

“Very, very much,” he said.  “You?”

“Yes,” she said, and she leaned close to kiss him again.  “If it’s not obvious,” she said, “I want you to stay.”  She was pretty sure, from the contented way he had settled back against the pillows, that he wasn’t going to run off again tonight.  But you couldn’t be too careful.

Mulder smiled at her.  “I’m glad,” he said, “because I want to stay with you too, Scully.”  He wrapped an arm around her then, and she rested her head against his shoulder.  Less than twenty-four hours ago, it had still felt like they might have come to an ending.  Now it felt like a beginning.


End file.
